


Sea of Red

by kayskull



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M, Multi, Red String of Fate AU, fameless!AU, mythical
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-05
Updated: 2014-04-29
Packaged: 2018-01-18 05:53:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1417622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kayskull/pseuds/kayskull
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From birth we all have tiny, red (maybe purple, only one person knows), invisible thread tied to our pinkies, attaching us to our soul mates. One family in the world knows that these threads are real. Very real. So real in fact, they spend their time trying to push lovers together, helping them find their happily-ever-after. Or at least, Harry does. </p><p>But why doesn't Harry have a string attached to his pinky? Is he suppose to end up alone?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> First of all, this is a major work in progress, and updating (like everything else I do) will be a bit scattered at first. 
> 
> Secondly, I'm HOPING to update every Friday night. This could be an issue if I work more during the week than normal but bare with me, I'm going to try.
> 
> THIRD! Yes, three points to you if you didn't skip this part. I don't know much about the Red String of Fate myth, I kept it that way for a reason. I was this story to have an edge. The characters don't know much about it, other than the strings being there, so I didn't want to know much. If YOU want to know about it, go { [x](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Red_string_of_fate) } here and read about it. Or do your own search.

Anne Cox always knew that Des Styles wasn't her soulmate. But he thought he felt the feeling his mother could only describe as breathtaking, and he loved her; worshipped the ground she walked. This fact alone couldn't hold the two forever, which is why, at seven months pregnant, Anne asked Des to move out of their home and began divorce preceedings. She didn't mean to do any harm; no. She just didn't want to grow attached to Des when her real soulmate was out there somewhere, ready to bump into her when the moment was right.

In the Cox family, a gift was passed down to offspring. It was a rare gift, the only known cases were those of Anne's family. Her mother had it, her mother's mother, her mother's mother's mother. Anne knew, from the stories of her grandmother's family fairytales, that it didn't matter if she had a boy or a girl, this child - her first born, would have the gift. And she needed to be able to help her child embrace the sea of red threads that clouded her vision since she was 12.

Puberty was a big factor in when to start. Anne had seen faint lines of red all her life, not understanding until the age of 12 that they are the threads of true love, connecting destined lovers together with a secret knot on their pinky fingers. In all her years, the threads have bent, twisted, tangled, but never broken, even after her own parents divorce, the threads on their fingers stayed attached; her parents souls were still as one, but no longer needed to be next to each other to feel whole.

On a cold day in February of nineteen ninty four, Anne called for an ambulance when her water broke. Nineteen hours of labour, and she was holding her son in her arms.

 

_Harry._


	2. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _My theory of this gift may not be right, but I do think that if you meet your soul mate and know you love each other, the string becomes forever permanent, in death or divorce, it doesn't matter, it's always there. But if you don't meet them, or you do but you don't tell them you love them, the string disappears, maybe one day finding somebody new to attach you to._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TADA! I actually had a chapter already written, I'm genius... Okay I'm not. But I know how to keep you wanting more!!!!! 
> 
> This chapter is a lot smaller than I had hoped, but I don't want to introduce you too much into how it will play out yet. 
> 
> Read On!

When I was 10, I saw the first line of many.

It attached to my cousin's pinky; lining to her husbands on the weekend of my gran's birthday. Mom had been preparing me for this day my whole life. Okay, maybe not my whole life. But at least five years.

"It can happen at any time, Harry." She told me, "you have to be prepared to see it. Nobody else can. Just us." I felt a sense of pride, being able to do something that everyone else couldn't. I was special. We were special.

At first, it wasn't always there. Only when people had already met. But as the next few years went on, it was different. The first time I noticed the change in it was when my mother met one of my teachers. I could see it in her face that it was not a mistake, what I was seeing was real. My English teacher and my mother were met to be together, the strings told us so.

That same year, I helped my friend meet a girl. Okay, that's wrong. They already knew each other, but they didn't know it yet. With the help of another friend, I set them up to find their soulmates. Each other. He looked at her as though the sun shone out of her arse. It was sickening. But in a really adorable, can't-get-enough-of-it way.

By high school, I had helped so many people find their soulmate, almost every person in my grade will probably be naming their first son Harry.

I never see my own string. Mom said I will when the time is right, but I think, maybe, some people are born without a soulmate. It can happen, I think, because there isn't always an even number of people in the world. With my gift, I've see the strings from the moment of birth. My cousin had a baby boy when I was 16, the first time I held him, the string was there.

Not too long ago, I was in a cafe in London when I saw an uncommon site; a boy without a string. I think, perhaps, his soulmate died before they could meet. Mom said once that she attended a funeral of a boy she went to school with who died in a car accident in year 11, she saw his string in school but at the funeral, the girl his string was attached to was there, and there wasn't a string. She also told me once, when her aunt had died, survived by her husband, mom's uncle, the string was there, still leading to the coffin.

My theory of this gift may not be right, but I do think that if you meet your soulmate and know you love each other, the string becomes forever permanent, in death or divorce, it doesn't matter, it's always there. But if you don't meet them, or you do but you don't tell them you love them, the string disappears, maybe one day finding somebody new to attach you to.

So when I saw this boy, I had a strange sense of longing for him, to comfort him in his loss. But I can't do things like that, I can't let them know that I can see it, so I stayed away. He looked happy, didn't know what was going on in someone else's life. His brown hair swooped over his forehead as he took a sip of his tea, his ocean eyes squinting when he laughed at his friend's joke. He was breathtaking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO DO YOU KNOW WHO THE BOY IS? DO YOU? DO YOU! Probably not. I'm not kidding. I know who you're thinking. And you're wrong. We're getting there, I promise, but we're not there yet. You have to wait and seeeeeeeeeeeeeeee :)
> 
> See you next Friday, my pretties!


	3. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Strings are a mystery, even to me. After all these years of my family seeing them, you'd think we would understand a bit more. But we don't. Every day, something new happens and we have to adjust. I've had strings appear then disappear within a moment of one of the couples looking at someone knew. I guess even the soul mate Gods haven't made up their minds about who belongs with who. These strings are a mystery to them too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OMG ONLY ONE DAY LATE! At least where I live..
> 
> I'd like to "dedicate" this chapter to Crest, because she's been so patient with me, planning stories and changing plots. She deserves a metal.

Niall Horan, a boy a little older than me, sat at the cafe, his dark brown locks flopping over his forehead, his oceanic eyes blistered holes into me. His eyes caught mine starring from across the room for split seconds before he took a second glance my way. It took me a few seconds to realize that I was in deed starring at this boy with captivating eyes and no soul string. Detached souls are so uncommon, with my family's experiences, that when you see one, it's hard to look away.

Lost in my thoughts, I didn't notice his entrance to my table; sitting alone was my thing I guess - I like to watch strings tangle amongst each other and people pulled in certain directions to untie themselves. "Can I help y'mate?" His Irish accent thick and inviting, rolling off his tongue with ease and comfort.

"Hmm? Um, no. I'm good. Sorry, you just looked really familiar for a minute. Sorry." I scampered.

His eyes scanned the table before he opened his mouth again, "you alone?" He took a seat before I could answer, putting his tea on the table and getting comfortable.

"Uh, yeah, I wasn't going to stay but my mom's on a date with her boyfriend and I hate being home alone, the big house creaks and moans around me when nobody is there with me. I usually hang out here until I get tired, or it closes and slowly walk home." I shrugged, "I do this every Friday, pretty much."

"Mind if I stay with you tonight?" Niall glanced at the table he was at with his friends, "seems my friends left without me." Straining my neck, his words were confirmed. Turning back around, I nodded gently, but something different was there. Something new.

A string.

The bell above the door noted a new patron in the cafe, and the string attached to Niall sprung in that direction. The small red hairred girl looked around, drenched from the rain outside, and found the counter located behind me. Niall's eyes followed her past, eyes wandering her slim body.

Reaching into my pocket, I pulled out a few notes. "Go get me a coffee, yourself something too. Use anything left over for a tip or something." He was up and out of his seat, behind the girl before I could even finish. "You could come sit with us, wait out the rain a bit," I heard Niall say behind me. With that as my queue to stand up, and ask the barista for the coffee to be to go.

"Niall, I have to head out, my mom messaged me, she's home. Thanks for the coffee, and I'll see you next week?" I blinked repeatedly at Niall, hinting to him to stay with the unnamed girl.

"Huh? Oh ya, see ya mate." His blue eyes never left her.

On my walk home, I had a lot of time to think. Mom obviously wouldn't be home yet, she and Mr. Twist never came back before three on Friday nights. But there was something about Niall that drew me in, something different.

 

 

 

xx

 

 

 

 

The next week, at my usual table, sat a boy with ghost white locks and a red haired girl, three coffees on the surface. "Harry!" The blonde boy said, Irish accent thicker than the week before.

"Oh. Niall. Hey." I stood awkwardly next to the table. In the chairs, Niall and this girl sat, fingers intertwined.

"This is Ava, my new girlfriend. And all thanks to you!" He kissed her cheek lightly, a blush drawing on her cheeks.

"Hello," her voice was but a whisper, her hand shaking as it shook mine. "Take a seat! We were just talking about you!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See yooooou next friiiiidaaaaaaaaaaay :)
> 
> (Also, sorry its so sort, I promise they'll be longer soon)


	4. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _The sight was horrible. Terrifying. Something I've never seen before and never want to see again._
> 
> **Warning:** Character death (is it minor or major? Who knows, I'm the author and if you've read my stuff before, you can't make any assumptions. :)

Three weeks after meeting Niall, he became one of my few friends. He came over all the time - when he wasn't busy with Ava. Every Friday, without a doubt, Niall would be sitting at our usual table. Sometimes he was alone, over times, with his hand intertwined with the beautiful girl beside him.

Watching them communicate with each other was captivating; the way she would giggle at almost everything he said, the way his eyes lit up when she spoke. Even their banter was adorable.

On one Friday - after four cups of coffee, Ava got a text from her mother urging her home. So Niall and I walked her the seventeen blocks east and four blocks north to the home she lived in with her family. The lights were out and front door unlocked. "Strange..." Ava whispered when she pushed the door open slowly before kissing Niall good night and thanking us for walking her home.

Thursday morning (and I do mean morning, like 4 am), the following week, Niall called me, frantic. "Have you heard from Ava since Friday?" I rubbed the sleep from my eyes.

"S'this?" My voice cracked and fumbelled.

"Niall. Dude. Ava!? Have you heard from her?" I shook my head, forgetting that he couldn't see me.

"No. I haven't. Couldn't this wait until the world was awake? I'm pretty sure even the Eiffle Tower is asleep right now." I heard him sigh from the other end of the phone, and russling as if he was getting dressed.

"No, Harry. It's been since we walked her home that I've spoken to her!" He exasperated. Now I was awake. Four in the morning or not, this was important.

We met at her home 20 minutes later, out of breath as we both ran the distance. Niall was already at the door when I snuck up behind him. "Have you knocked?"

He jumped from his skin upon hearing my voice. "N-no. Not yet." He sighed smally, "I only just got here; still mustering up the courage." His fist balled and rose to the door, ready to tap on the wood. "What if, I mean, what if she changed her mind?"

Taking a few steps toward him, I put my hand on his back for encouragement, "She wouldn't have. She's probably just sick. Knocked, let's find out." And he did.

The door opened ajar from his taps, not latched at all. "Should we go in?" His Irish voice whispered. Not able to form any words, I nodded my head, brown curls shaking. Silence washed over to us in the front hall of the home, tension building in the air.

In the living room, the sight was horrible. Terrifying. Something I've never seen before and _never_ want to see again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Better late than never? If you want to yell at me, you can do so [here](http://payneinsideme.tumblr.com) and I am so so sorry for what I've done...


End file.
